


Everything/Anything

by andrewiel



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16853914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrewiel/pseuds/andrewiel
Summary: He needs this, now. Needs to give this to Neil, because out of everyone and anyone, out of all these people that touch Neil and get close to Neil and make him laugh that deep and hard laugh, Andrew is the only one who can do this.(Andrew is jealous. Neil proves he has no reason to be.)





	Everything/Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Lmaoooooooo so I have to leave for my final in 10 minutes, and was meant to study for it last night, but instead I wrote this. I like the idea of jealous!andrew, but given who they are as characters and their relationship, jealousy seems a little irrational for them sometimes. I tried to think of how Andrew specifically would feel jealousy, and this was it.
> 
> Enjoooy. Sorry I've been MIA. hope this makes up for it! Also sorry for any errors etc a bitch doesn’t know how to edit anymore!

There’s a girl in their dorm when Andrew returns home from class.

There is rarely ever a girl in their dorm.

Her laugh is loud, audible from the outside hall before Andrew even has his key out. He can hear Neil’s voice too, his sense of caution immediately lessening while his confusion rises.

Neil is at his desk, an extra chair pulled over beside him for the girl, her brown hair tied back in a long ponytail twirled over one shoulder. They don’t notice him at first, the girl letting out another laugh as she hits Neil in the arm. Neil laughs back, before seeing Andrew and smiling at him over the girl’s head.

“Hey,” he says, infuriatingly beautiful. “We’re just working on our calculus homework. This is Becca.”

They have music playing from Neil’s laptop, papers scattered across the expanse of the desk, Becca’s knee close to Neil’s knee, not quite touching but close, so close.

“Hi!” Becca says, waving furiously at Andrew. “We won’t be long. I hope. Maybe. If we ever get anywhere with this.”

She laughs again, then Neil laughs again, and all Andrew can do is nod. He heads to the kitchen for food, then takes up his usual spot in the windowsill. The only reason he doesn’t light up a cigarette is to avoid unwanted and unnecessary commentary from Becky or whoever. They pay no attention to him anyway, with Neil’s occasional glance or smile the exception.

He listens to Neil talk and laugh, the way he forms words to fill silence, how he explains concepts and how he asks questions; so unlike the man on the court or the man in Andrew’s eyes, usually so sure and stubborn and annoyingly determined.

Andrew hasn’t ever heard of Beth, as Neil hasn’t ever mentioned her, but it would make sense to assume the two as . . . close.

Not anywhere as close as what they have, never, no . . . but close in the way that her knee rests against Neil’s knee, how Neil doesn’t flinch at her proximity, doesn’t shy away from her eyes on his face.

There’s a chance that Neil _has_ mentioned her, but Andrew would remember if he thought she was anything significant.

Which only proves that she isn’t, so Andrew finally breaks out his lighter and his pack of cigarettes, not caring about the look Bella gives him when he only cracks the window.

When she finally leaves, after giving Neil an awkward side-hug, Neil comes back to the desk and sprawls out in his chair, letting out a great sigh.

“Whoever decided we need an education to play Exy should be arrested.”

“Drama queen,” Andrew says around his cigarette, poking Neil in the side with his foot.

“You only say that because you don’t need to study.”

“You’re the idiot with a kink for math.”

“Yesterday you said it was a kink for Exy. Make up your mind,” Neil says, poking his tongue out. “Once Kevin’s home we’re going to head over to the stadium. Are you in?”

“No. Did you eat?”

“No.” Neil at least has the sensibility to look ashamed.

Andrew grabs him hard by the front of his shirt and hauls him closer. “Dinner first, Exy second, idiot.”

Before Neil can let out his expected exasperated sigh, Andrew stops him with a hard kiss, and then a press to his chest to send him off towards the kitchen.

-

The new kids are assholes, as far as Andrew is concerned. They usually only ever are assholes.

Assholes that Neil gets along with all too well this year, opposed to how his second year had panned out. They challenge him without threatening him, get along with him as much as they look up to him, and are smart to not reference his past even if Neil isn’t around to hear it.

So it makes sense then, how they stand together on the court, Neil the leader, with his racquet held over his shoulders, looking so careless and relaxed in their company. Andrew watches from the goal, more interested in whatever exchange is going on between them than actual practice.

Neil throws his head back and laughs, while Hill knocks his hand against Neil’s helmet and Lin waves her arms around in some dramatic gesture.

Neil has laughed at Andrew before, because of Andrew, for Andrew. It isn’t an unfamiliar sound. Andrew has had the best view to Neil’s laugh before, while flat on his back with Neil propped up on his lap, his face lit up and his mouth wide from his smile, his body rolling as he laughs.

So watching him from the goal, how he laughs and shudders from it, shouldn’t feel so foreign.

Yet it does, because it is.

Andrew can’t ever do that; can’t stand in a group and understand the same joke as everyone else does, can’t contribute to it, because it won’t be funny to him. It hardly ever is.

Stupid, this feeling. So . . . stupid, that he even feels it, this irrational irritation at not being like them, not being able to give that to Neil.

He hasn’t ever felt inadequate before regarding Neil. They decided long ago that this was it, all without saying it, that there was no one else because no one else could be the other.

Then why . . .

He thinks about it for the rest of practice. He thinks about it in the shower, the water so hot on his skin.

Neil is the only one in the locker room when Andrew gets out of the shower later. He looks up from the bench with a smile on his face, no words needed as he gets up to walk alongside Andrew for the car.

Their arms brush, their hands touch, and it’s all so simple, but somehow it’s enough.

-

Friday night, exhausted from their away game, Dan invites everyone over for a movie night.

Which is a simple request, with no backhanded sabotage planned, and no danger evident, but all the same, Andrew doesn’t want to go.

Having spent hours with the team on the way to their game, then hours on the way back, he feels more drained of energy than he’d like to admit, and so when Neil stands in the hallway with his wide and pleading eyes, Andrew can’t say yes to him.

“No,” he says coldly, only to get his point across. “You go.”

“Okay,” Neil says, countering with a small smile, like a bandaid over a gunshot.

But as tired as he is, Andrew doesn’t sleep; he lays in his bed with his eyes on the ceiling, and imagines a life where he could . . . be.

Be like them. Be normal. Be able.

He thinks of how a long time ago, someone took his life into their hands and made it what it is, all without his wanting to.

Not that he cares for himself, as this is life, has always been life, and will always be life, but for . . . for Neil.

Because he can stand to be near Becca and wants to laugh with his teammates and spend hours in their company, and he can be like them, or almost like them, despite everything, and . . .

Andrew can’t, because he does not want to.

Which is just another thing he can’t give Neil.

He’s still awake when Neil and Kevin come back to the room, Neil having to help Kevin into his bed before attempting to get into his own. Andrew holds a hand out to stop him, their eyes locking even in the dark.

“Up,” Andrew says, and Neil begins to grin, climbing up the ladder until he’s comfortably in Andrew’s bed.

They go together easily, legs sliding into place, hands gliding along bodies, Andrew’s front pressed to Neil’s back as they settle into sleep.

And it’s not enough, it isn’t enough, as it can’t be everything.

But it works.

-

Neil is out already when Andrew wakes up, most likely on a run.

Andrew has his coffee before taking a shower, thinking, wondering, processing and planning.

It isn’t a full blown fire, this jealousy. He would never allow it to escalate to that, to levels that he cannot put out. Instead it burns away slowly, embers that are still hot to the touch, only needing a slight breeze in order to burst.

It isn’t jealousy over any one certain person. Or anyone at all.

If anything, it has more to do with himself than with the faces of people who mean nothing to him.

It’s that they mean something to Neil in ways that Andrew cannot.

Andrew perks another pot of coffee and fills up a mug for Kevin, black like Kevin likes it, before going back into their bedroom and kicking at the asshole’s bed frame until he starts to stir.

“Wh-what . . ?” Kevin mumbles, turning to face the wall as he pulls his blanket over his head.

“Get out,” Andrew tells him calmly, still kicking at the bed frame.

“No,” Kevin says miserably, muffled against his pillow.

Andrew stops kicking and nearly pours the hot coffee over the idiot before thinking, then saying, “I’m going to fuck Neil when he’s back from his run. You’ll have to ask him for permission if you want to stay and listen.”

Kevin throws himself into a sitting position, looking frantically around with still-bleary eyes. “Andrew, you can’t - fuck you!” he shouts, scrambling out of bed and hastily grabbing the cup of coffee before storming out of the room.

Andrew has a smoke by the window as he waits. Neil comes back twenty minutes later, red-faced and sweaty. His expressive grin finds its way back across his face when he sees Andrew, still out of breath as he tells him he’s going to shower.

Andrew uses that time to decide, finally, before going into their room and looking through his dresser. When they do have sex, it’s with hands and mouths usually, with Andrew only ever fucking Neil at their house in Columbia, where they can be away from the busybodies of their lives.

With Kevin gone, with these embers glowing inside of him, and with the memory of Neil’s back pressed firmly to his front all night still fresh in his mind, Andrew doesn’t care if they aren’t in Columbia.

He needs this, now. Needs to give this to Neil, because out of everyone and anyone, out of all these people that touch Neil and get close to Neil and make him laugh that deep and hard laugh, Andrew is the only one who can do this.

They’ve still got half a bottle of lube and enough condoms to last a few more trips home, not that they use condoms, not much anymore. Andrew holds one between two fingers, thinking about that, that one night when they both decided they didn’t need them, didn’t want them, that this . . . was it.

Neil pushes the bedroom door the rest of the way open, dressed only in his boxers, a towel in one hand as he rubs his hair dry.

“Hey,” he says, distracted by drying off, not paying enough mind to what Andrew is holding, to what Andrew is doing.

Until he does.

He looks at Andrew with a smile, and then confusion, and then realization. “Andrew -”

“Yes until it’s no?” Andrew asks, his voice rougher than usual, the condom between his fingers feeling suddenly heavy.

“I - yeah,” Neil babbles, letting the towel hit the floor. “Yes. Yes until - until it’s no.” He swallows hard, and takes a step forward.

Andrew nearly smiles, but instead tosses the condom over his shoulder and pulls Neil closer by his hips, kissing him the way he’s wanted to since he first told himself he couldn’t.

Neil throws his arms around Andrew’s neck, keeping his hands above his shoulders as he deepens the kiss. They know each other, their rules, boundaries and limits, can tell when something is off by the tenseness to shoulders, the furrow of a brow, the hitch of a breath.

They kiss until other urges press elsewhere; Andrew can feel Neil’s cock against his hip, prominent through his boxers, sensitive enough that the slightest brush makes Neil gasp into Andrew’s mouth.

He swallows every noise, makes Neil make more, all for him, because of him, for him.

“Say no if you want to say no,” Andrew reminds Neil as he pushes him down onto his bed, not yet crawling over him. “Otherwise, do what I say.”

Neil smirks, allowing his legs to slowly part. “When do I not?”

“You can start by shutting that smart mouth of yours,” Andrew says warningly, before turning for his dresser again and reaching to the very back. “And take those off.”

He can hear Neil shift around the bed as he takes off his boxers, can hear them hit the floor, before turning around.

He regards Neil’s still-flushed body, his knees now pressed together, as if embarrassed of his sudden-nakedness. The smile on his face says otherwise.

Andrew finally sits on the bed with him, as close between Neil’s legs as he can get.

“Open up,” he says, resting a hand on Neil’s shin as Neil parts his legs again, his cock already flushed hard and pointing towards his stomach. “Good.”

Andrew strokes over Neil’s leg with one hand, while holding up their dildo with the other; it’s rather boring for a sex toy, but it was the only one Neil could look at without blushing or choking while shopping for it, long and slim and purple, with a thick head that never fails to catch on Neil’s hole.

“I’m going to fuck you with this,” Andrew tells Neil, keeping his voice strong and convicted. “But first, you’re going to fuck yourself.”

Neil bites hard on his lip and nods, reaching out for the toy with one shaky hand.

“Not yet. Fingers first.”

“Andrew,” Neil whines, but nods again. He’s annoyingly talented at bending himself in half, with how quick he can pull his knees to his chest. His hole twitches at the sudden air over it, pink and pretty and waiting, and Andrew has to clench his hands into fists to stop from touching.

“Spit,” Andrew says when Neil looks for the lube, to which Neil narrows his eyes before sucking on two fingers and sliding them downwards. He teases himself, either on purpose or from hesitancy, unsure of how to start.

Andrew usually does this for him. When he can’t fuck him, he fingers him; in the shower, before sleep, some blissful mornings where Neil isn’t out of bed at the crack of dawn.

Seeing it is one thing, and seeing Neil do it to himself is another game entirely.

It’s like how you can’t ever bite yourself the way you could bite others; the jaw has the power to cut what could be steel in half, but never will you hurt yourself.

That’s how Neil fingers himself, slow at first, circling his hole for a minute before taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, pushing into his ass with that one finger carefully, still slow, never taking that bite.

One arm is wrapped around his thighs, the other between his cheeks. Andrew looks on patiently, not touching a single part of Neil, only watching.

“I need - can I have lube?” Neil asks after a minute, words gritted through his teeth.

Andrew nods, picking up the bottle and pouring a small amount onto Neil’s spit-slick fingers. Neil’s body flinches from the cold, but Andrew finally steadies him with a warm hand against his thigh.

The noise of it all goes straight down Andrew’s spine, along with the hitch to Neil’s breath and the following moan, so low and raspy, like a whisper.

Neil takes his time, letting Andrew watch, getting to two fingers before he begins to struggle.

“A-Andrew,” Neil whines, his legs beginning to shake, his fingers slipping from his hole. “I-fuck, fuck -”

“Shh,” Andrew whispers, and sucks one finger into his mouth before pushing it beside Neil’s. They both go still and stop breathing as Andrew sinks inside, the feeling so odd, with Neil’s fingers next to his while surrounded by his body.

They don’t move in tandem, instead pumping in and out at different times, each little thrust pulling a whine from Neil’s mouth.

Only for his eyes, only for him, Neil like this is because of him, and nobody, not a soul, can do this but him, and so Andrew barely blinks, not wanting to miss a moment of what only exists in the now, in these seconds.

Neil pulls out and moves his hands to hold open his ass, the area around his hole and balls slick with lube and spit, his hole now red and puffy. Andrew continues to finger him until he can push the tips of four inside, then decides their toy can do the rest.

When he pulls out, Neil clenches up around his fingertips, not able to let him go. His body moves like a wave with it, a harsh shudder, his knees closing up as if that’ll keep Andrew in and closer.

“Come on, come on,” Neil pants feverishly, pawing at Andrew’s shirt with one hand. “I-I want it -”

“Then turn over,” Andrew says, as even as he can make it, and tries not to smirk at how Neil flips himself over within seconds, his knees bent and pelvis tilted, ass on full display. “Eager much.”

“You can’t blame me,” Neil murmurs into his folded arms. “Just - hurry.”

“Shh,” Andrew says again, rubbing the head of the toy between Neil’s cheeks, bumping it against his taint, pressing it in until Neil throws his head back and gasps. One day they’ll try other toys - Andrew already has his sights set on a prostate vibrator that comes in orange, which the Exy addict might get a special sexual thrill from.

For now, he works with what they have, and teases Neil’s opening with the toy’s head, pressing in and then pulling out, watching how Neil’s tiny hole tries to keep it in.

“Don’t tease -” Neil grits out, his hole fluttering at the sudden emptiness. “Just - fuck me.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Andrew says lowly, giving the toy a long lick before sliding it up Neil’s asscrack, making Neil push back against it. He slowly pulls it down and then away before adding more lube, and then to spite Neil, because he can, he inserts it again, pushing it in inch by inch, no slowing or stopping.

Not until Neil is packed full of it, so stuffed with the toy that he can’t move.

“God,” Neil groans, his knees sliding further apart. His hole greedily clenches hard around the toy, his hips beginning to rock as if imitating being fucked. Andrew takes his hands off of the dildo, watching how Neil reacts around it, taking note of every clench of his hole to keep it in.

And then, because Neil asked for it, Andrew leans forward on his hands and flicks his tongue against the spot where toy meets skin. Neil’s groan and shudder is instant, rippling through his body.

Andrew pushes it in, then lets it sink out on its own. He keeps his tongue to Neil’s hole, lapping around his rim and the toy, digging in with the tip only enough to tease, to cause those little sighs and gentle gasps.

“Not fair. Ch-choose one,” Neil says, choking. “Fuck me or-or -”

“Both,” Andrew says against Neil’s ass, before going back in to tease at his puckered and stretched hole, so beautifully red against purple. He pumps the dildo in and out, while moving his mouth downwards to suckle at Neil’s full and heavy balls, just to be an asshole.

“Fuck!” Neil shouts, and his whole body surges forward, driving his cock into the blanket from the force, coming near instantly. “Fuck, fuck - Andrew -”

Not waiting for him to recover, Andrew pulls his mouth away from Neil’s ass and takes the toy in one hand, and fucks Neil through the rest of his orgasm, relentless and consistent, pushing Neil over the edge and bringing him back up again.

“I-I-” Neil babbles, tensing up as he fights with overstimulation and pleasure. “Oh, oh, fuck, it’s gonna happen - again. _Andrew_ -”

“Let it,” Andrew says, twisting the dildo into Neil with a forceful shove, before pulling it out entirely and moving in with his mouth. He licks into Neil’s stretched hole, not thinking or caring about the mess, the vulnerability from both of them from admitting such trust, only focused on Neil’s next orgasm and making sure it happens soon.

Patience pays off, and one minute later Andrew feels Neil come again, the rim of his hole clenching tight around his tongue.

It isn’t as powerful as his first had been, this one full of whiny grunts and weak gasps, his come dribbling out instead of spurting. Andrew’s name is the same on his tongue; heavy and hard, cold and yet so warm, close but a mile away.

Letting him come down, Andrew pulls back after pressing a kiss to Neil’s tailbone. Neil curls up into his own arms, heaving his breath out hard, body quivering from his orgasms and the sudden cold.

“Okay?” Andrew asks, unable to see Neil’s face. He threads a hand through his hair instead, stroking back the sweaty strands, waiting for Neil’s shivers to ease up.

“Fuck me,” Neil says, surprising Andrew enough to freeze him where he is. Neil looks over his shoulder, face one of determination and warning. “Fuck me, now.”

And though it’s Andrew who said he’d tell Neil what to do, Andrew doesn’t argue with the conviction in Neil’s voice and body.

No condom, Andrew slicks himself up and slides into Neil’s abused hole, his ass taking his every inch with ease. Neil still gasps out loud, throwing his head back as he grabs fistsful of the sheets to steady himself.

“F-fuck, go, go, go -” Neil begs, and if anyone else were to hear him like that, they would think they never knew him.

But this is what Andrew knows, and so like a secret, he holds it safe inside of him.

Andrew fucks him, as hard as Neil wants, picking up on his cues when they fall wordless, pushing into Neil until Neil shakes through his third orgasm; it’s more violent than the first two, as this one pulls out everything.

“You - too,” Neil says shakily, so out of breath it must hurt, reaching backwards and pressing on Andrew’s naked hip to make him move. “Inside, Andrew - come.”

Andrew finally smirks - _smiles_ , no will behind his muscles anymore, and does what Neil asks of him; he spills into his ass, and while he wishes he could go another two times to be on par with Neil, it’s enough.

Because though this can’t be everything, this isn’t just anything, and that is enough.

Neil kisses Andrew when it’s over, gentle and light and so unlike the fervent touches of earlier. Unlike any way he would ever touch anyone else.

Andrew kisses him back, and wonders how a man with such clear memory could ever forget that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [jostenminyard](http://jostenminyard.tumblr.com) on tumblr! lemme know what you think ❤️
> 
> with fan-made content being so policed and criticized it’s important to comment and support the work you like! so comment!


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